High in her Tower
by Flying Geese
Summary: Suze is quite bored under her new restrictions, and no one seems to want to entertain her. My entry to Lolly's Feb competition.


**A/N: This is my entry for Lolly's February topic in the competition, Once upon a Shadowland. It's a breakaway from **_**Haunted**_**…Enjoy…:)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the **_**Mediator**_** Series.**

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High in her Tower

_You've_ got _to be kidding me_.

Okay, I know they're just trying to be great parents and everything, but this is just a little excessive.

Do I really look like the type of girl that needs her window nailed shut?

I mean, really. I may have been brought home by the police a _few_ times, and I technically do host a nightly visitor of the male variety, but I am a good person.

You know. _Really_ deep down.

I fingered the nails. A quick dip into Andy's toolbox would solve everything.

I sighed. Nothing really _needed_ to be solved, after all. It wasn't as if this nail was going to keep Jesse away. And I could use an excuse not to show up at Paul's for his little "Susie harassment" sessions.

_Why_ _are my stepbrothers such idiots? And why so immature?_

Yes, that's right. Brad actually told on me. It seems he was privy to the fact that a very hot Latino ghost has been in my room more than once. I don't really know why he told; Jesse and I have just been _talking_, for God's sake. And I know for a fact that Debbie Manusco had seen the interior of his bedroom in a _far less_ wholesome way.

A fact, which, when pointed out, DID NOT get Dopey grounded, I might add.

Why me?

The view out this window was stunning and everything. But I missed the breeze. I think that was supposed to motivate me to keep my door open. You know, to air out my room during the day.

So NOT happening.

It was sunset, and all the watermarks on the glass were really crapping up the image. This really sucked.

A little company might have made it better, but…

It was so boring up here. I mean, Friday night, and I was stuck in my room, grounded? I might have to, like, do chores, or homework, or something.

_I'm really going insane._

Ooh! I'll call CeeCee! Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to hang myself by my shower curtain.

I picked up my dainty white phone, more excited than was really necessary, only to find the line in use. It seemed Jake was talking to someone about the special Camaro that he was getting fixed up or painted or something.

This was not happening. This was not happening! I flopped onto my bed and screamed into my pillow. I'd never hated my stupid canopy more. I'd go crazy up here!

For a moment, I wished I wasn't as mad at Mom and Andy so I could go downstairs and start up a fun family game night or something equally lame.

Why was I being such a baby? _I can be a big girl, _I thought. I picked up my Trig book, made my way over to my desk, and actually started studying. How good of me! Maybe I could knock something over, my mother would come running to investigate, and then she'd find me here, studying, and let me off early for good behavior!

This wasn't so bad. At least I was making the best of my involuntary free time, and trying NOT to flunk out of Trig.

I actually got really into my studying, nearly understanding quotient identities. I was working well into the evening until no speck of light escaped the horizon, when I heard something.

Well, I'm used to hearing things. So I can say with some confidence that the sound of tapping at my window didn't scare me out of my wits, or anything. But I had a horrid suspicion that the only person that would have any reason to tap at my window was the one person I would really rather be eaten by an octopus.

So my head did sort of snap up in alarm. What if Paul knew I was locked up, and had come to continue our shifter lessons, um, here? I wouldn't exactly put it past him.

But the face in the window wasn't one that made my heart shrink in terror. On the contrary, it made my heart swell, and my brain cloud over, and detached my mouth from my mind.

Jesse de Silva was standing on that little bit of roof right outside my window, appealing to me with inquisitive eyes.

As happy as I was to see him–and not at all in a healthy way: I could tell from the way my heartbeat quickened and my face flushed and I stood up, quickly, from my desk chair–something in the back of my mind was nagging at me.

Wait a–_why can't he get in?_ A million sickening imaged flashed through my mind. My mother, secretly nailing my window shut. Paul Slater comes over, to "drop something off," only to discover that I'm not home. He says to my poor mother, "Here, let me give you a hand," and uses his powers to make the window ghost-proof. Oh God, oh God, oh giddygoodygod.

I shakily ran to the window. "Oh God, Jesse, can't you get in?" I was hysterical. Quite embarrassing, actually. Like a ghost not being able to get into my room is cause for an emotional breakdown.

"What,_querida_?" Said a voice behind me.

I whirled around. "Oh. Jesse." Okay. Paul hadn't been here. I slowed my breathing. "You scared me."

He looked pleased. "Really? Wonderful. I haven't had a good haunting in a long time."

"That's not exactly what I meant, you stupid ghost."

"Oh, Susannah," he grinned. "I should probably leave."

"What?"

He nodded to the window. "Your parent's intent was clear. And since a few nails can't really keep me out, it would be wrong of me to take advantage of that."

Take advantage? As thrilling as that sounded, the part of me that didn't just melt into a puddle at his feet registered that he would be leaving.

"Oh! No." Well, that was embarrassing. "Please, stay and talk for a while. I'm so bored. Look! I was studying." That floored him. His eyebrow lifted as he eyed my open Trig book. "Jesse." I grabbed his hand and put on my best pout, the one that got him to kiss me all those weeks ago. "Please?"

"I don't think so,_querida._" And he disappeared.

There was another tap at my window. I went over and sat on the seat, looking bemusedly at Jesse. "What now?" I half-yelled through the glass.

"We can talk like this. I'm not breaking any rules," he said; with that Cheshire smile still marking his beautiful lips.

"Oh, and me yelling like this _totally_ won't get me in any more trouble."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"Yes! You get your spectral butt in here so we can talk like normal people!"

He was suddenly yelling from the ground several stories down. "Oh Susannah, Susannah, let down your hair!" he teased.

"I just got a haircut. And I would have thought that when you were hanging around here for a hundred and fifty years you would have read something a bit more substantial."

He reappeared outside the window to retort, "I'll have you know that 'Rapunzel' was a story of my childhood! It was first published in 1812. My mother read it to me and my sisters, to help us learn English."

Now _this_ was the reason I wanted him in my room. I wanted to learn about his sisters and his mother! I wanted to learn about his _life_, so I could think of him as a person with memories rather than a dormant phantom. He never talked about any of it. Was it painful for him? Or did he not remember?

"When did you start learning English?" was the question I settled on.

"I learned English and Spanish together. I _did_ live in California, you know."

"Alright, alright. Keep your spurs on, cowboy."

Jesse leaned against some invisible backrest, more content and relaxed than I had seen him in a long time. His left hand reached toward me and the tip of his fingers touched the glass, very lightly. I waited to see if I should put my fingers there, too, but he didn't need me to. His hand was still as he started talking.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Mercedes snuck out her window to go horseback riding in the moonlight with her friend Helena?"

I shifted forward onto my knees and smiled. "No."

He told me stories of his childhood for a long time, and I tried not to interrupt. It seemed he found things to do, even before the cinema and Coffee Clutch. I would die.

Finally, what few stars existed over Carmel appeared in the sky and we both grew quiet. I looked at the stars and Jesse looked at me. He inhaled, poised to speak, and my eyes snapped to his. He was closer to the window than he had been. I leaned closer, as well.

"Have I entertained you, _querida_?" he spoke breathily, just loud enough for me to hear.

I tried not to breathe, so I wouldn't fog up the glass (Jesse doesn't have that problem). Our faces were a total of, maybe, two inches from each other. He carefully touched two fingers to his mouth, and placed them right next to my cheek, on the window.

Oh, _wow_.

I mean, that goes right up next to the "Spiderman" kiss on the Ways to Make Susie into Mush list.

Just as I was about to fake death, or break the window, _anything_ to get nearer to Jesse, a car horn blared rudely below me. I looked down to see CeeCee stepping out of Adam's bug, looking concerned.

I guess she would. I mean, I had just been sitting at my window seat, staring wistfully at nothing. That is a cause for concern.

CeeCee motioned at me that she was coming up through the front door, and I shook my head quickly.

Just then, the phone rang, and I pounced on it before my family could hear. "Hello?" I said, out of breath.

"Hey, babe, I mean, Ma'am, is this the city morgue?"

I cast a panicked look at Jesse.

"No, Adam, this is not the morgue. Why would you say that? There are better ways to make a prank call. There are no dead people here. Not a single one. That's just mean and scary! What are you guys doing here?"

"It's Friday night, let's get freaky!" I heard CeeCee telling him to hand over the phone.

"Suze! I can't come up?" she said.

"Sorry, Cee. I'm grounded. I'm trying to spare you guys a lecture."

"Well, then, come down here. Just throw down a ladder, or your hair, or something." Was this a theme of the night? And _why_ was everyone making fun of the fact that I was effectively locked in my room?

"I _really _don't think I can." The window was turning out to be a real pain in the patootie.

"Oh, come on. We just want to ride around a bit. We'll have you back before anyone notices."

"I'll see what I can do." I hung up and walked over to Jesse.

His eyebrow was raised. "Susannah, I don't think you should make your mother worry."

"You and I both know that isn't going to stop me." I eyed the nails on the windowsill. "How about some help, of the telekinetic variety?"

He laughed. "Not a chance."

I narrowed my eyes. "Fine. I'll just go out the front door."

I turned to leave, but he was already standing in front of my door. "Oh, so you've decided to join me in my chambers, now?" I tried to get around him.

"This time, it's for your own good," he justified.

"Don't tell me you've locked my door again."

"Will that be necessary?"

"Jesse," I whined. "What will it take for you to let me out?"

"I'm not letting you out."

Was he always this stubborn?

I racked my brain for some trade. Um, I could…do his ghostly laundry?

I sighed in defeat. There was nothing I could do. But did I really want to do anything? I had Jesse in my room now, didn't I? That was better than riding around for half an hour in Adam's beat-up bug.

"How about, I'll stay in here if you will."

He held my gaze, searching for the rub. "Fine," he said finally.

"Fine." I called CeeCee back, telling her there was no way to get past my parents and that I would call her back tomorrow.

When I turned around, Jesse finally looked relaxed again. He ran a hand through his hair in that way of his and said, "I'm sorry, _querida._ I just don't like to worry about you.

"It's alright, Jesse." I took a step toward him. "You were right, anyway, this is more fun than listening to Adam's bad jokes."

His brow furrowed. "Apologies are more fun?"

I laughed, and came to stand in front of him. "That's something to think about. But I meant talking. Just the two of us. Preferably not through a pane of glass."

We were silent, then, comfortably. He looked at me, but I couldn't hold his gaze.

I opened my mouth, just to have an excuse to look back. "So, was it my hair that brought you in here?"

"What?" Even as he said it, he picked up a strand of my hair.

"My hair. You know. Rapunzel. 'Let down your hair!'" I snorted, just loud enough to mortify me.

"Yes, yes," Jesse whispered. "Your hair." And he kept one hand wound in my not-so-long-and-golden tresses as he leant down to kiss me.

THE END

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**A/N This was INCREDIBLY fun. It feels so nice to be inspired again. Many thanks to Lolly! Review, please!**


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